


in your arms i belong

by opalescentheart



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 10:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14162688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalescentheart/pseuds/opalescentheart
Summary: Maybe, there is a way Oswald can belong in Edward Nygma’s life again after all.





	in your arms i belong

When Ed offers him to stay at his apartment, after returning from the docks that day, Oswald gladly takes the invitation. Very gladly.

It’s not as if he’s got much of a choice, anyway. 

Oswald feels like an intruder though. Like he doesn’t belong - here, in the Narrows and to Ed and his new life in general.

The weeks in Arkham have made him disconnect from a lot of things. 

The way he used to feel about Ed is still in there though, deep down. Oswald knows that.

He’s being given the warmer blanket for the couch to sleep on, and Oswald can’t help the small spark of warmth that’s blooming inside him when he takes it with a quick, “Thank you.”

Ed knows he gets cold at night. He remembers.

Maybe, there is a way Oswald can belong in Edward Nygma’s life again after all.

The first night on Ed’s worn-down couch had been alright. _Splendid_ even, compared to the awful nights he had to spend on the stone-hard bench inside his cold cell in Arkham. Plus, sleep had come rather easily due to the overwhelming exhaustion rolling over him.

It’s the second night, that Oswald can’t find any sleep, with a seemingly never-ending stream of thoughts buzzing inside his head.

Thoughts about Edward Nygma.

Oswald rolls himself from one side to another. For the tenth time now. His back hurts. His ankle hurts even more. And his eyes burn from not being able to find their much-needed rest.

Eventually, Oswald decides to give up and sits up, propping his chin onto the scratched leather backrest of the couch, taking in the dull moonlight veiling the small and rather barren place into a pale blue light. 

There isn’t much light in the Narrows, Oswald realizes. 

Oswald thoughts wander back to the old apartment, Ed had owned. The one with the big illuminated arrow. The row of big angled windows with the green-ish tint that always let the city’s broad lights shine through, even in those darkest hours of the night.

Oswald misses it. 

The lights. The apartment. 

But most of all, Oswald misses _them_.

Oswald doesn’t even realize the slight prickling sensation in his eyes, isn’t due to fatigue this time.

Not until a wet tear rolls down his cheek.

Maybe, he thinks, his heart clenching with all the hope he’s got, maybe, they were on the right part again.

Him and Ed.

Oswald doesn’t know for how long he’s been sitting like this, staring out of the window.

Long enough for his tears to have dried.

He hears a creaking noise from the mattress, followed by a soft groan.

“Why are you awake?” Ed asks, voice still a bit thick from sleep.

Oswald turns his head, seeing only the dark silhouette of the man sitting up in the bed.

Oswald takes a deep breath.

Ed still knows him. Still cares.

Otherwise, he would’ve just commented on him being awake.

Not asked, _why_. 

**

Oswald wakes up, with a racing pulse and a pair of strong hands on his chest. Holding him down.

“What- who, where am I, no my mother- I-”

“Calm down, Oswald. Breathe. Listen to my voice. _Breathe_. Slowly.”

Oswald sputters out a heartbroken sob, more tears welling up and flowing down his cheeks.

Not again, he thinks. 

“It’s alright, you’re alright. I’m here.”

Oswald doesn’t protest when those strong hands creep under his armpits and pull him up into a hug.

“Thank you, Ed,” he sobs into the man’s chest, clinging to his new-found friend as if his life depended on it.

And in a way, it did.

**

“You still have those nightmares?” Ed asks, and Oswald can’t help but _still_ search for any tone of malice in the other man’s voice.

Who could blame him after everything.

“Yes,” Oswald eventually replies, voice soft but steady. “But...they’re different these days.” He pauses, trying to force out the intrusive memories of being dumped and drowning in cold water with hole in the stomach and even more so in his _heart_. 

His breath trembles a little, and Oswald wonders, if Ed knows.

Because, Ed gets up and sits down next to him.

Not as close as he would have once. But still close enough to reassure Oswald. 

_I’m here._

Oswald looks at him, and suddenly he’s terrified. It’s too much. Too quick. He can’t let Ed in again. Not anymore.

Quickly, forcing himself to smile, Oswald says, “I didn’t have a nightmare tonight, though. I- I just couldn’t sleep,” he says, shrugging and feigning a quick laugh. It’s the truth even. “I guess, my back still has to adjust to a soft surface after sleeping on an actual rock these past weeks. I mean, you still remember those awful benches in Arkham, right?”

Ed furrows his brows, his eyes searching Oswald’s face carefully.

Oswald feels utterly vulnerable all of a sudden, and there’s _almost_ the impulse to leash out in some way. Starting an argument. A fight even.

But something entirely different happens.

Something rips open inside Oswald’s chest. 

“I’m so sorry,” he hears himself say, breath coming quicker, wetness forming inside his eyes.

Ed squints his eyes.

“We’re even, Oswald. It’s alright,” he says, and the tone of his voice is not devoid of emotion, like Oswald had expected.

It’s soft, almost pleading with him.

To just let it go.

“B-but, Ed,” Oswald emits, beginning to tremble as tears being to run down his cheeks.

The first sob escapes him and Oswald knows there’s no way he can stop now.

Ed doesn’t hug him like back then. 

But he places a hand on Oswald’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Let’s not dwell on the past anymore, old friend.”

Oswald lunges forward.

Ed doesn’t push him away.

So, just like back then, Oswald cries, and clings to him.

Because his life depends on it.


End file.
